Ex-Army Vet Struggles to Move On After Girlfriends Tragic Murder and His Dark Past

Part V

From Parts I - IV: I returned from Afghanistan, having been shot in the shoulder and having two surgeries to repair it. I got out of the Army to help my mother who had bladder cancer and ran into the high school girl on whom I had had a crush. I found out she was a single mother of a young daughter and tried to ask her out, only to have her accuse me of treating her like someone who I thought couldn't take care of herself and needed to be saved. She realized her mistake and we dated once then I was invited to her house, where I ran into her ex, who had drugged her and then knocked me out. After the incident, Lily says she won't see me anymore, but then, one night she arrived, drunk, and fucks me. When she wakes, she says it was a mistake and goes back to not seeing me anymore. After a few weeks of being ignored and turned down by Lily, I asked the waitress Cindy out and she proved to be a sexual dynamo. After getting very close to Cindy and having wonderful sex, Buck gets sentenced and his family comes after me, leading to Cindy getting killed.

Chapter 14. Now what?

1 February 2010

I managed to get through that day, but barely. The next day the police brought my car home and asked to talk to me. They asked me about the incident and I took them through it as I remembered it. I didn't tell them about the Afghanistan flashback or the dream. No fucking way. They said it would be awhile before I got my weapon back. They were very apologetic while staring at me as if there was something wrong with me. It wasn't that they seemed suspicious, but it was as if they were looking at someone who worked for the circus, the bearded lady or some other such freak. It made me realize that in this area and that town none of them had probably ever shot and killed someone. I wondered if any of them had even drawn their weapon while on duty.

I had intermittent bursts of emotion for the next few days and my sleep was interrupted by any sound at all. The slightest thing could make me angry and a sappy commercial could make me break down and cry. In short, I was an emotional mess. I couldn't stop thinking about how I had found someone that I really did feel that I could spend time with and she was taken from me. I wondered if there was anything in life that was going to be fair to me when it came to relationships. I also thought about how great Cindy was about everything – sex, hanging out, shooting at the range, working as a waitress; she seemed to be able to enjoy everything in life. Her outlook had been rubbing off on me and now she was gone; and with it my cheerful outlook. When they killed her, they killed that in me, too.

I also felt that it was my fault. I knew that I wasn't responsible for the actions of two lunatics, but if I had never gotten involved with her, she would be alive. She was so fun-loving, alive, and full of promise and good will. I think that's what made me feel the worst. She always meant well and never once did I hear her utter any bad things against anyone. She didn't blame anyone for her upbringing, her station in life. She just lived. And she knew how to live and have fun. That was the most difficult thing to take.

There was also the problem with Buck's family. They didn't go after Lily, they came after me. They went after me and Cindy got in the way and killed for it. At least I killed those assholes.

I didn't leave the house for the next week at all, except for the funeral. It was sunny until about 10am when the clouds rolled in. It appeared that even God did not want to watch the funeral of a person so full of life and joy. All the sunshine was taken with her. It even started raining a little just when we laid her to rest, like even God had tears to be shed for her. I just prayed that there was a God, because Cindy deserved the best and she could even brighten his day.

Everyone there was local except for her mother. I finally met her mother, who looked exactly like what I expected. She was a little too tan, a little too flashy, and a little too much of everything in every way. She was the cliché I had always seen on TV and dismissed: divorced, but still playing the game, living in a small home in Florida, and probably chasing some man or other every moment. We only spoke briefly. She looked me over good. "My daughter said good things about you. I also know that you are the one that killed her killers. Thanks."

What do you say to that? I thanked her and worked on getting through the funeral and wake without getting too emotional. Earlier in the week, Rhonda had mentioned that they might want me to stand up and give the eulogy. I passed on that and vehemently told her no.

The worst part was when someone came up and wanted to talk about what if felt like to kill somebody. He asked it loud enough that several people were shocked and stared at him almost as much as I did. If stares could kill, I would have left him a smoking hole in the ground. I didn't answer; I just turned and walked away. I left the wake after that. I didn't want anything else to do with that crowd and I was still feeling responsible.

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THE END